Page 37

‘True. Oh.’ Susie slowed down, joining the end of what looked like a long tail-back on a narrow county lane lined with thick hedgerows. ‘Balls.’

‘I wonder what’s going on?’ Temperance asked no one in particular. ‘It’s not changeover day.’

Susie raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m sure it will pass soon.’

Two hours later, an empty wine gum bag beneath Temperance’s feet and every shred of conversation they could explore been and gone, the sisters crawled past a big, red Range Rover, its two left wheels somehow two-foot high into the hedgerow and the vehicle now stuck at an unhappy angle. A middle-aged man with thick gold bracelets had his head in his hands just in front of it. A tractor driver in the next-door field slowed down and yelled out the window, ‘You can’t park there, mate!’

‘I KNOW!’ the man shouted back, his voice croaky with emotion.

‘Now then, I’m only pulling your leg. I’ve called my son: he’s coming with some chains and we’ll pull you out. Don’t go anywhere!’ He chuckled and the Range Rover man’s face went as red as his paintwork.

‘Now just another ninety minutes of driving and we’ll be there,’ Susie grumbled. ‘You sure we couldn’t have just bought some dried herbs online?’

‘Do you want to wait five-to-seven working days while Mark sneaks about with his plans for East Prawle? Besides, the kind of quantities we need might have . . . alerted authorities.’

‘What do you mean?’

Temperance pulled out her phone and read from the screen. ‘Atropa belladonna. Attractive, psychoactive, dangerous.’

‘That would make quite a good Tinder profile,’ Susie cut in, but Temperance only rolled her eyes and kept going.

‘Heart-shaped leaves and purple flowers. The toxins within can cause hallucinations, paralysis and even death. Atropa comes from Atropos, one of the Three Fates in Greek Mythology who could bring death at will.’

Susie swallowed. ‘Sheesh. Hence all the rubber gloves and face masks?’

Temperance nodded. ‘I’m taking no chances. If we park up at the location I gave you, then walk as deep as we can into the woodland, I reckon we’ll be way off the beaten track and we won’t bump into anyone.’

‘Sounds like a plan to me.’

The plan shouldn’t have involved two wrong turns, a loo break stop and a refuel too, but it did, and after all that, dusk was falling as Susie parked the car in a stony layby close to the postcode Temperance had found.

‘Did you bring torches, by any chance?’

‘Nope. Phones will have to do.’

‘Right. We’d better go quick then, while there’s still a tiny bit of light.’

‘We’ll be fine. It won’t take us that long.’

Within ten minutes of trudging into the woods, clambering over a bent-down wire fence, the thick canopy overhead drank up the little pinkish light still available and the sisters were waving their phone torches around, swerving tree trunks that loomed up out of nowhere and trying not to fall into the clutches of bramble bushes.

Susie flinched, looking over her shoulder. ‘Was that a . . . howl?!’

‘Suse. Get a grip, love. Probably just a pigeon. Or an owl.’

‘A growling owl?!’

‘There was no growl. Just keep walking. I think this way is good.’

‘You think?’

‘I just . . . feel it. Like we’re going somewhere really, truly wild. The kind of place magic gravitates to. Ahead for maybe ten more minutes.’

A creature sounded again, not too far away, with a rustle of leaves. Even Temperance had to admit it sounded a bit wolf-like. She kept her eyes on the tiny beam of light in front of her and her mind on tracking down those heart-shaped leaves.

After a dozen more stumbling steps, the trees cleared into a rough circle. Temperance felt something flutter in the base of her throat. ‘We’re here. I know it. This is the spot. Start looking for the flowers. Really deep purple and a bell shape. Gloves first, though!’ She flung a pair of marigolds at her little sister.

‘You didn’t fancy those nice little suede driving gloves from the shop? I’ve got a soft spot for those.’